Hello peeps! Sorry to have neglected this blog but I’ve been working on a story for Saturday, and the research has been taking up some time. I know, I know: you’re supposed to toss off short posts but I can’t help it — I like putting in a bit of care, kinda like Catherine Deneuve baking a love cake step by step in “Donkey Skin.”

Of course I’ve been seeing shows too. Annie Baker’s “Circle Mirror Transformation” I reviewed already so you know I fairly enjoyed it. As an aside, the cast includes the wondrous Heidi Schreck, whose own new play, “Creature,” begins performances at the Ohio Theatre on October 27. It’s a co-presentation of New Georges and Page 73, and stars Marylouise Burke and Jeremy Shamos, so it looks especially promising.

I made good use of most theaters being dark on Monday by going to see Kylie Minogue at Hammerstein Ballroom. She made her entrance wearing an intergalactic showgirl outfit, perched on top of a giant metallic skull that came down the from ceiling — and she did the first number, “Light Years,” from up there. I hope some Broadway directors and producers checked out this show, it would have given them some ideas about how to generate razzmatazz. Lord knows they need all the help they can get.

Following that was “Bye Bye Birdie” but you’ll read about it in tomorrow’s paper so I’ll move right along to to my next outing, John Jesurun’s “Liz One” at the Chocolate Factory in Long Island City.

I was particularly lured by the perspective of seeing cult actress Black-Eyed Susan, a Ridiculous Theater and Jesurun regular, in action as the Virgin Queen. Okay, I’ll freely admit that I found the show perplexing. Which isn’t a bad reaction per se — there’s a very important difference between not getting a show and feeling your intelligence has been insulted. In the case of “Liz One,” I couldn’t really tell what the point was, and yet I (mostly) wasn’t bored. Jesurun’s method involves what the Village Voice’s Michael Feingold once referred to as “cultural seepage,” so parsing “Liz One” you could find references to the Rolling Stones (including Benjamin Forster’s character being called Twin Glimmer) and the Pixies, excerpts from Cervantes, and exchanges like “Drop the chalupa! Moron. Chihuahua. Are you French?” Yeah, I don’t know either. Aesthetically, the show is typical Jesurun in its dreamlike quality, with projections, live video, three strategically placed mirrors, and barely perceptible music by Pamelia Kurstin. It’s simple and looks beautiful. Meaning? Well, it may be found in one of the multiple realities the show alludes to. I’m still looking.